Closer To Sin (24 page)

‘Coincidently,’ Anais continued, her voice shaking, ‘Sin had also been sent to Italy to monitor and report back on the Austrian attempt to curtail Napoleon’s hold on France. He risked his own life to help me escape, and then accompanied me across the mountain range back into France.’

Anais rubbed her hand reverently across her belly. ‘Gaston and I married shortly after. But had it not been for Sin, I would surely have been subjected to untold depravities and ultimately the firing squad.’ A shudder passed through her body. ‘You see, when Sin found me, I had already been captured. Sin shot three men in order to ensure my return to Gaston. And for that I will always honour him.’

Liliane brushed a tear from her eye. She was uncertain of what to say; she felt like such an interloper, presuming upon the bonds that tied Anais and Gaston to Sin. To her surprise, though, Anais leaned over and grasped her hand in her own. ‘And that’s why, my little sweet, when that buffoon returns, I shall ring a peel over his head.’

‘Why?’

‘In all the years I’ve known that man, never have I seen him behave in such a cavalier attitude towards a woman. I can’t fathom what he must have been thinking when he agreed to take you with him on this venture. But if he thinks that by having this marriage annulled it will erase all that has passed between you, he will quickly learn otherwise.’

Liliane coughed, embarrassed. ‘And what has he said passed between us?’

Anais eyed her speculatively. ‘That is precisely my point, he said nothing. And that tells me everything.’

‘Perhaps, because he said nothing, you are unaware that it was because I foolishly told De Bois we were on our way to be wed that Sin was forced to marry me.’ Liliane ignored Anais’s huff of dismissal. ‘I can see you don’t approve, but if I hadn’t been so impetuous, then Sin wouldn’t be in this predicament right now. He did it to protect me—not because of any surfeit of emotion or tender feelings. An annulment will be for the best; I can’t remain married to Sin.’

‘Can’t or won’t?’

‘Both.’

The chair scraped sharply on the floor as Anais stood. With brisk disapproving movements, she gathered together the soup bowls and stacked them on the supper tray. They clattered loudly against the tension in the room. She moved to the door but turned back to Liliane. ‘I think our judgement is often clouded by fatigue so I shall leave you to sleep and we will discuss this further in the morning.’

***

The strains of the cockerel’s first call reached Liliane’s ears. Liliane groaned and pulled the blankets up over her face. She’d had a restless night, waking up countless times with sweat beading her brow and images of Sin being chased and shot at by soldiers. Then those dreams had morphed into Sin dancing with her at Almack’s and everyone standing around the dance floor, jeering and calling her shameless, berating her for not heeding Great-Aunt Woolner’s wishes to marry Freddy Parkes. The last dream had been the worst, though: she and Sin were promenading through Hyde Park when, without warning, he’d slumped to the ground and lay motionless at her feet, his blood soaking into the earth.

The thought of life without Sin stole her breath away. Liliane flicked the sheets away from her face and looked down at the ring Sin had placed upon her finger during their wedding ceremony. Maybe there really was something in Sin’s grandmother’s prophesy. Maybe she just had to open her mind to it, be prepared to take a chance and face the consequence of her decisions without fear.

She dragged herself into a sitting position, unable to lie still as hope flooded her soul. All she needed was the courage say no to Great-Aunt Woolner because, ultimately, only she could be responsible for her own happiness. The realisation was uplifting. She had been prepared to accept a life of mediocrity to satisfy those she loved, but perhaps there was a chance she could make her own choices and her family would be happy for her, would support her. She threw back the sheets from the bed, ignoring the twinge of pain that shot up her arm. None of this meant that she had a future with Sin, but there just might be a chance of one—one day.

Already the day looked brighter. She looked around the room, taking it in for the first time since she’d arrived three days ago. It really was very nice. The large bed she occupied was covered in a rose pink damask counterpane and dominated the room. The only other furnishings were a striped brocade armchair where Anais had spent much of her time and a small dresser that sat between two lace-covered windows. The early morning sun had already started to trickle through the curtains, giving the room a soft, inviting atmosphere. Liliane smiled. She was ready to leave her sickbed and venture back into life.

Half an hour later she was beginning to regret her exuberance. The process of getting out of bed, attending to necessities and dressing herself in her weakened state was more demanding than she’d anticipated. She was feeling hungry, but a little rest in the armchair wouldn’t go astray before she attempted to go and find Anais. She picked up the book Sin had given her and started to flick through the pages, the words blurring before her eyes.

Sometime later Liliane awakened to find a little dog curled asleep on her lap. Stroking the pup’s ears, she turned to gaze out of the window. To her surprise, the early morning sun that had greeted her a couple of hours ago had been replaced by clouds and a light rain. Across the yard she could see Anais making her way towards the pig pen, her gait ungainly as she picked her way through the mud and balanced herself against the weight of the large bucket of slops.

She gingerly lifted the little dog down. ‘Come Coco, let’s go and see if we can assist your mistress.’

Stepping outside, she wished she’d grabbed something warmer to wear; the rain was quite icy. ‘Anais, wait a minute and I’ll help you,’ she called as Anais was about to pour the contents into the feed trough.

Anais paused and turned towards Liliane. ‘And have you reopen that wound?’ She waved Liliane away. ‘Sin would never forgive me. Besides, Gaston will be back later today and he’ll take over all the heavy work for me. This one little chore won’t harm.’ She finished her task and wiped her hands on her apron before walking over to link arms with Liliane.

The clatter of horses’ hooves drew their attention to the farm gates. Coco started running in circles and Anais, mindless of the rain, dashed towards Gaston. Liliane watched the chaotic scene unfold before her. The little dog continued to bark as it leapt excitedly from Gaston to Anais, smearing mud everywhere. Gaston bestowed a cursory greeting upon Coco and drew Anais into a tender embrace.

Liliane’s attention shifted to Sin as he slid to the ground and bent down to greet the excitable little pup. The dog, satisfied with the attention, raced back over to Gaston. Liliane’s flesh prickled as Sin turned his attention to her. Their eyes made contact and she stood motionless. A shudder raced through her and she became aware of the ring on her finger: it was hot, as though charged with its own peculiar energy. She felt bound by an immutable force, invisible but pulsating with its own life. And damn her for a fool, but she didn’t have the strength of will to break the chimeric connection which imperceptibly tightened and drew her towards him.

The problem with Sin was that she became oblivious to everything else when he looked at her with such intensity. He slid one big hand about hers and lifted the other to brush a strand of hair from her eyes. ‘You had me worried there for a while,
mon fleur
. It’s good to see you back on your feet.’ He leant forward and placed a gentle kiss at the corner of her mouth, sending a shower of sparks racing through her body. ‘Did you miss me? Or were you too busy cursing me for leaving without you, even though you were in no condition to go anywhere?’

His eyes crinkled laughingly at the corners, daring her to rail at him for leaving her. She tossed her head indifferently. ‘I admit I was taken aback when Anais told me you’d left—but even I have the sense to recognise when I’m beaten. Besides, Anais proved to be a very attentive nurse, and a good conversationalist.’ Liliane resisted the urge to squirm under the intensity of Sin’s examination. Goodness, he must think they’d spent the past couple of days doing nothing other than gossip about him.

With an indecipherable smile Sin dropped his gaze and ran a hand through his hair. ‘I’m pleased you enjoyed Anais’s company. I’m going to take care of these beasts and freshen up. Join me in half an hour’s time and I’ll bring you up-to-date with events.’ Liliane stood frowning at Sin’s retreating back. Well, something she’d said had irked him. She shrugged. He was probably dreading the inevitable lecture from Anais.

A trickle of water ran down the side of her neck and Liliane realised the rain had intensified. She turned and hustled back into the house, stopping by her room to pat her hair dry and change out her damp gown into the old grey gown Solange had lent her over a week ago.

The day she and Solange had met Sin at the tavern now seemed a lifetime ago. So much had happened in such a short space of time, and Sin was no longer a distant stranger. She closed her eyes as the now familiar wave of liquid heat dispersed through her body, yet despite the toe curling intimacies they’d shared, the man was still an enigma. He hadn’t hesitated to race back to Boulogne in pursuit of De Bois, but his greeting had ignited a flare of hope she barely dared acknowledge. She grabbed her shawl from the foot of the bed and slowly wandered towards the parlour. What would Sin choose to do next? Would he return her to Solange’s house and leave with a cursory goodbye, or did he feel bound by that same unfathomable connection that drew her towards him every time he was near?

She was no closer to an answer when moments later she entered the parlour to find Sin and Gaston comfortably ensconced in large comfortable armchairs arranged about the fireplace while Anais served morning tea. Liliane sat herself on the settee closest to the fire, grateful for the comforting warmth it gave the room. With any luck, it would help to abate the shivers that seemed to be emanating from deep within her belly. Suddenly she dreaded hearing what Sin and Gaston had to report.

As she sat and sipped her tea, she was surprised to learn they’d travelled as far south as étaples, not only in search of De Bois, but also in their continued search for Gareth. She rubbed her fingers against the unabating cold, her contribution to Sin’s search for Gareth suddenly feeling futile and the unsolved pieces of the puzzle innumerable.

‘The one thing that has become apparent,’ Sin commented as Gaston fell quiet, ‘is it’s highly unlikely our initial meeting with De Bois was a chance encounter—and that raises questions about his presence at Deneux’s house also. I believe he was certainly looking for someone—he just wasn’t sure whether it was Liliane and I specifically—but, in accompanying him back to Boulogne, we called his bluff. We sufficiently sowed enough seeds of doubt for him to question whether we were in fact the people he was looking for, which gave us the breathing space we needed to meet with Lyon and Allard.’

‘And where’s De Bois now?’ Anais queried.

Sin and Gaston exchanged a quick glance. ‘Lyon put it about that we were headed towards Paris, so we believe De Bois has gone there in search of us,’ Sin finally replied. ‘While we weren’t able to verify that, what we do agree upon is that it appears it wasn’t until the encounter on the wharf that his initial suspicions pertaining to our identities were confirmed.’

Gaston nodded in agreement. ‘We don’t think he was responsible for Gareth’s murder, but we certainly believe he is working closely with whoever was. The most pressing question, though, is who alerted the authorities that Sin was active in the area?’

Silence prevailed as each considered the question Gaston had just posed. Liliane cast her mind back over the previous week. There had to be some key piece of information none of them had considered to be of any consequence.

‘There is one common element between Gareth’s murder and that of Michel Allard.’ Liliane looked from Anais to Gaston and finally to Sin, ensuring that she had their attention. ‘For now, I’m inclined to discount Deneux—we’ve not been able to uncover any information to say that Gareth met with him. Also, De Bois was already at Deneux’s house, he didn’t arrive after us, which leads me to assume his discovery of us there was a happy coincidence.’

She pursed her lips, gathering her thoughts. ‘No matter the angle from which I consider this problem, I keep coming back to Henri Lyon. Except Lyon’s family connection to Allard makes it extremely unlikely that he was responsible for the murders. But … we’ve not considered Allard’s final words.’

Sin leant forward in his chair. ‘The Legacy.’

‘That’s right.’ Liliane turned to explain to Gaston and Anais. ‘As Michel Allard was dying, he said to
follow the Cousins’ Legacy
. I think that may be the key to unravelling this whole mystery.’

‘That could be anyone,’ Gaston dismissed. ‘More than half the aristocracy was related in some form or another. It sounds rather fanciful to me.’

Anais held up a staying hand. ‘No, I disagree.’ Her brow furrowed in concentration. ‘I seem to recall something. About twelve years ago I overheard my father speaking to someone—they were discussing a family who’d been executed. I know I wasn’t meant to hear because they were speaking in whispers, but I remember one of them being quite distressed and commenting that it would signal the end of the Legacy.’

For Liliane’s benefit, Anais explained. ‘I grew up about a day’s ride north of here. The region consists predominately of fishing villages and dairy farms. There were a couple of families of minor nobility, but nothing significant. Certainly none of the larger or more prestigious families.’

All eyes studied Anais intently as she sought to recollect other details of that day. ‘The next time I heard reference to the Legacy was about three years ago, when my father and I were discussing the likelihood of the Jacobin movement rebuilding. He made a curious remark that if the Legacy had survived, the Cousins would see the Jacobins vanquished once and for all … I never understood what he meant, so I didn’t give it any more thought.’